She made a face at Julian. "Wimp," she teased comfortably. Her pain threshold, always high, had shot through the roof during the war, when she'd inadvertently begone disconnecting once she hit an injury bad enough to do anything significant.
"There's a hot tub on the roof," Dora recalled, turning toward Tristan to tell him. "You just have to not do magic on the roof unless you make sure no one is there. Muggles have access." Which of course let the cat out of the bag she lived in more muggle London now, but she didn't really care. "Flat is warded, though, within reason, and the workroom you can pretty much do anything. Both of you will get keyed into the wards." The first time she'd keyed anyone except Rich, given she was there at his generosity, into wards in years. "Of course, we can ward sometimes up there but we can't cut off access completely."
She pretended to ponder as she sucked idly on her spoon, savoring the dark cherry chocolate espresso mix that she rarely indulged in. "Oh I don't know, maybe we should get a glittery loo, Tris. What do you think?"